Generator
by floweranza
Summary: A series of drabbles, ranging from one side of the spectrum to the other. Please review.
1. 1

_Disclaimer: Tennis no Oujisama doesn't belong to me._

#1 **Reconcile**

* * *

They stood across the court from each other, breathing heavily, sweat beading on their foreheads and then sliding down, slowly. A ball had rolled to the leg of a bench, abandoned; the two players could not be bothered to pick it up. A hand came up, brushed away the sheen of perspiration, and thrust into a pocket -- it drew out another ball. 

He served.  
He returned.  
If the return was less focused than usual,  
the server said nothing.

The two rallied back and forth, the ball manipulated across the clay with sheer talent, adrenaline, youth, and maybe something a bit like apology. It was late; the stars battled the light from the city, and evening rush hour had since passed into the occasional drunk businessman stumbling through the sidewalks.

He served.  
He returned.  
If the return was sharper than usual,  
the server said nothing.

Eventually they stopped at the same minute, same second. One passed around the side of the net, walked briskly, passed by his partner in a slide of skin on skin, and in the small contact was a word,

_"Sorry,"_

and the ball by the bench's leg was picked up, not abandoned after all. They left together, leaving the court glowing in the nightlights, and went home.

* * *

AN: Who do you think it is? 


	2. 2

#2 **Counsel

* * *

**

This is the way to hit a backhand; this is how you catch yourself on the soft part of the wrist; this is how you fall; fold your jersey the right way and always put it away; run home in sheets of rain and jump in all the puddles right; don't say the right thing at the wrong time and the wrong thing at the wrong time; always make sure your shirt is left-side-on and downside-up; you've heard I've forgotten how to smile?; this is how to tilt your eye just right; blue should be the colour of the sky and so on and so forth; this is how you stand in Australian Formation, right in front - don't be cautious - stand right in front; _I only heard it twice_; this is how to dance for a friend; this is how to dance for an audience; this is how to dance for a lover; always buy the tasty toothpastes, because you don't want it to taste bad; this is how you lose; this is how you win; this is how the water shines in the sink with the soap suds; you mustn't drink hot chocolate when it's hot!; this is how you smile even when you don't feel like smiling; this is how to not fall in love; this is how you fall in love; this is how you never fall in love with your doubles partner; _but what if I do?_; you mean that, after all of this, you won't be able to let them go?

* * *

AN: Written in the style of "Girl," by Jamaica Kincaid. This one is, in particular, Oishi and Eiji. 09.27.05. 


	3. 3

#3 **Deficiency

* * *

**

Eiji gasps deep, shuddering breaths all the way down into his lungs, and the floodlights of the court glow coldly in the darkness. The sound of harsh breathing cuts through the silence and for a second Eiji thinks someone else is there, but it's only himself.

Oishi played Tezuka.

He stands there by the bench, drenched in sweat and alone. The pain of the metal he gripped tightly with his fingers lingers, and he remembers Oishi losing set after set after set. The breath catches in his throat. His lungs seize, and he slumps down on the bench, rests his head in his hands.

He knows it's immature. He knows the anger he feels is irrational, though it's now shifted into a mix of loneliness and betrayal and sadness. When he had gripped Oishi's shirt between his fists tight, yelled at him, had felt tears spilling down his cheeks and hadn't bothered to dash them off - that had been anger. It's gone now, like most of the few times he had ever been angry at Oishi, gone after a flash of fire.

His lungs still contract painfully, and Eiji knows he's pushed himself. After everyone had left, he'd ran and ran around the school and the courts, letting the anger pound out with his footsteps. He'd ran for a long time.

Now that he thinks about it, Oishi had only done the right thing. Oishi always thinks things out more than he does and sees the causes and effects, while Eiji deals with feelings, and they'd always balanced each other out that way.

Eiji wonders what Oishi's feeling right now. The bench is suddenly cold and hard under him, and he gets up. He gathers his things and checks the time on his cellphone. His legs are shaky, and his breath is still coming hard.

He plans to go to the gym tomorrow. He plans to work on his stamina, and fix his new step. When Oishi comes back, he'll show Oishi that he understands now. He won't hold Oishi back, and they'll be okay and golden and perfect again.

Eiji walks away, but he doesn't see Oishi standing by the court in which he played against Tezuka, smiling.

* * *

AN: Based around Eiji's Singles match in Genius 265-269. Been busy with school lately, and I'll really write other characters. Really. Really! 


	4. 4

#4 **Glasses**

* * *

People say that it's Inui that hides behind his glasses the most, but Ryoma disagrees. It's no more of a mask for Inui, he thinks, than anything else and that Inui probably delights in the fact that he can improve his own atmosphere. Anything he truly has to hide is elsewhere and not beyond the lenses; he has nothing to lose. The glasses are part of Inui's visual identity – but that is all. 

Ryoma thinks it's their captain that hides behind his glasses the most.

Most people would disagree with him, of course, and say that Tezuka is just that – a commanding and powerful presence, with cold eyes and sharp frames and no smile. Ryoma thinks that he knows the captain much better than most people, and he believes that most people are terribly idiotic, anyway. He has more faith in his captain than he has in anyone else. However, in his mind, Tezuka is a fractured pillar – a strong pillar cracking here and there. And unlike Inui, who even without his glasses would in all probability have an unreadable gaze, Tezuka is kind.

Even if everyone else is stupid and can't see it, Ryoma thinks that their captain is the one with the kindest eyes. Were anyone to say it, Tezuka's glasses would flash and the curve of his mouth would turn down.

* * *

AN: I think so, at least! 


End file.
